Aeroplane

I hear the buzz at ten past 3,
The wings crocheting over me,
A blunted noise, no nuisance due,
The cockpit replacing the absence of you,
No voices to chase, no thoughts to pluck,
A pleasant relic when unwholesomeness struck,
Brain waves satellite through drooping clouds,
And question me what the passengers are thinking now,
Are they thinking of oatmeal, of learning, or seas?
Are they thinking of what has been eating at me?
Another dawn wasted, it’s now five after nine,
And everyone’s sleeping, except aeroplane and I.